


Never Without Meaning

by InvincibleRodent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4535568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvincibleRodent/pseuds/InvincibleRodent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short, unprompted drabble straight from tumblr. (More to be added later. :))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His kisses are never without meaning.

The first whispered a choked up _“Thank you”_ , with sorrow and solace hissed through boiling bile; bitter and beholden; grieving and grateful.

The second said _“I owe you”_ , abashment and affection mingle on his tongue, and the amulet, weighty and warm, presses into the small of the Inquisitor’s back.

The third screamed _“Mine”_ \- _mine,_ a selfish promise, _mine,_ his grip almost hurts, _mine,_ possessive hands pull at clothing- they demand, they desecrate, they devour.

But after the Inquisitor stumbles out of those ruins, covered in dirt and grime, with blood seeping steady from between the fingers clutching his side and a triumphant grin slicing his face in two… That kiss finally says _“I love you”_ , and he kisses him, over and over, until they’re both laughing. He doesn’t care about the blood staining his clothes, his face, clotting into his hair, the shaking fingers that leave red streaks everywhere they touch; they claim, they cling, they cradle. He’s in his arms again- winded and wavering, wounded and worn out, but victorious, warm, whole, alive.

His amatus.

His beloved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I scrolled through my writing tag on tumblr and I found this old piece too- maybe it can be read as sort of a second part? :)

Dorian pushes through the crowd with little regard for who or what gets trampled under his feet; his attention fixed on the Inquisitor and only on him. Staggering, bloodied and graceless, but warm and alive, and  _Maker’s balls, if I don’t get to hold that man in the next ten seconds, I might actually die._

He barrels into the warrior with only slightly less force than a charging druffalo, and he kisses him, over and over, paying no mind to the coppery sweetness of the other man’s breath.

_I love you_ , in his mind he finally screams, but he only manages to choke out a strange, garbled sob before locking his now bloodstained lips back onto the Inquisitor’s. _I love you, I love you, I love you. You’re alive, and I’m alive, and I love you._

“Blood–?” he injects, muffled by fervent kisses and the borderline hysterical pants of his own breathing.

“Bit my tongue,” the Inquisitor mumbles against his lips, every second syllable lost to passion, hands tangled in Dorian’s hair and for once, the mage doesn’t protest. “Just bit my tongue, don’t worry, not hurt, I’m fine.”  _You’re fine, you’re alive, I love you._

A delirious laugh bubbles out of the corners of the mage’s lips, their bodies struggle to fill a space that no longer exists between them, to crawl into the other’s skin, melt into each other and become one then and there…

Cassandra’s cough stirs them from their stupor, and the Inquisitor stumbles when Dorian steps back abruptly, legs slowly giving out from fatigue.

“What do we do now?” the Seeker asks. The Inquisitor straightens himself, rallying every last ounce of strength in his muscles, and entwines his fingers with the mage’s, unwilling to let go. This time, Dorian doesn’t pull away.

“We go back to Skyhold.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like, please do take a look at my [tumblr](http://www.weresquirrel.tumblr.com)! It's a mess. But a fun mess.
> 
> tbh the one reason I'm posting this here is that someone liked that old post and I thought hey, what the hey.


End file.
